


Worth the Price

by silentdescant



Series: Snapshots [24]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Role-Playing Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:04:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Scott asks, laying the drawl on thick. “Found someone to take you home yet?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> KINKtober Day 20: Prostitution

They haven’t seen each other all night, really, which is strange and a little bit concerning. After their first drinks, Mitch split off to talk with some friends in one of the booths, while Scott headed out to the dance floor, and when he returned to the table, Mitch was gone. Dancing, someone told him, so Scott didn’t think much of it then, but now, several songs later, he still hasn’t run into Mitch in the tightly packed crowd.

He slithers between the mass of writhing, sweaty bodies and goes to the bar. It’s well past time to switch to water; Scott’s head is swimming and the heat is making him dizzy. He pushes his way to the front and raises his hand to get the bartender’s attention. As he’s turning back around, drink in hand, he spots the familiar curve of Mitch’s neck; Mitch is facing away from him, further down the bar, and he’s talking to someone Scott doesn’t know.

Scott makes his way over to them and stands outside of Mitch’s periphery for a moment. Mitch’s shoulders are loose, his stance relaxed. He holding a glass but isn’t drinking from it, and Scott wonders if Mitch has reached the same tipping point of drunkenness and also decided to cool it and recover. He doesn’t want to interrupt, not when it seems Mitch is making headway with this guy, but after another minute or so, the conversation ends and the man leaves.

Mitch looks a little wistful now that he’s on his own, and Scott can’t stand for that. He goes to Mitch immediately and gives him a flirtatious wink.

Mitch startles at his sudden presence, but it only takes him half a second to return Scott’s smile.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Scott asks, laying the drawl on thick. “Found someone to take you home yet?”

Mitch shrugs and bats his eyelashes. “Maybe. Are you interested?”

Scott leans in and catches Mitch’s mouth in a kiss. It’s sweet and chaste and Scott is hungry for more, but Mitch pulls back before he can deepen it. There’s a playful quirk at the edges of Mitch’s lips, a lightness in his eyes that keeps Scott from asking what’s wrong.

“Two hundred for the night,” Mitch tells him.

 _What?_ Scott’s brain stumbles. He’s still sort of drunk.

“You want to take me home, baby?”

“Oh— _oh_.” Scott nods and takes Mitch’s hand. “Two hundred? I think I can swing that.”

They say goodbye together and go outside to wait for their Uber. In the relative quiet of the busy sidewalk, Scott asks, “What should I call you?”

He watches an enthusiastic grin spread across Mitch’s face. “You can call me Casey,” he says.

“I’m Scott.” If they’re going to do this, they might as well fully commit.

They’re committing to this scenario and Mitch clearly loves it. It makes Scott’s chest warm to see him excited and happy, and his heart stutters knowing he made Mitch feel this way.

They don’t really talk on the drive home, but over and over again, Scott murmurs the name. _Casey_. Tasting it, feeling the shape of it in his mouth, associating it with Mitch. He shouldn’t be surprised that it’s gender neutral—yet somehow he is surprised, surprised and thrilled—and he wonders what that means for the evening. Are they acting out Pretty Woman? Is Mitch playing a girl tonight? Would it matter? As long as this game ends in orgasms, Scott supposes it really doesn’t.

When they arrive and climb out of the car, Mitch waits for Scott to pull him to the front door. He waits for Scott to unlock it, waits for Scott to usher him inside, waits for Scott to lead the way through the foyer and into the living room. He waits, because… he hasn’t been here before. Scott realizes with sudden clarity that Mitch is granting him a blank slate to act however he wants, tell Mitch whatever he wants, because tonight, they’ve never met before.

“You want a drink?” he asks, because it seems like the thing to do. They’ve both sobered up a bit on the drive, but Scott doesn’t really feel like drinking more himself and Mitch likely feels the same. “Maybe some water?” he offers instead.

“Sure.”

They walk through to the kitchen—Mitch trailing a few steps behind—and Scott fixes them both a glass of water. Mitch is acting like a guest in his own home, and it’s so strange, but it’s somehow easier for Scott to think of him now as Casey, a total stranger.

“Do you live here all alone?” Mitch—Casey—asks with a flirtatious quirk of his eyebrow.

For tonight? Sure. “Yeah,” Scott replies. “It gets lonely.”

“Maybe I can help you with that. Two hundred for the night,” he reminds Scott pointedly.

“Oh! Right. Um…” Scott pulls out his wallet, and of course Mitch knows how much cash he has on hand, of course Mitch is insisting on an actual payment, of course Mitch pockets the bills with a flourish, like it’s the most routine thing in the world for him to accept money from Scott.

Scott feels like he’s been catapulted into an alternate reality, but when Mitch puts down his glass and steps into Scott’s arms, everything is familiar again. Mitch murmurs, “Good choice. I’m the best money can buy.”

“You prepared to back that up?”

“Where’s your bedroom, baby? Let’s go find out.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
